Friday, December 28, 2007

When I started this blog, I made a few rules for myself. One was to not identify which hotel I work at. Two was not to use my real name or have my friends post it here, even though Jeremy the Dummy already did that. These rules were made because I respect my workplace and don't want to bring any accidental bad attention to it. Not that it really matters, as far as I know only friends of mine read it, which is awesome. If I don't know you and you found this blog, feel free to email me at graveyardchicago@gmail.com or leave me a comment here. I want to be virtually popular. The third rule I made for myself was not to use the real names of guests who stay here (unless they are celebs who have already checked out or hotel room porno makers). In my other blog, I have poked fun of people's names at my old property, but I've matured beyond that and gained respect for privacy. Until now. I cant help it. I am going to break rule number 3.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Bruce Superman is staying over tonight.

Holy shit. Bruce Superman! There's no way anyone could really have this name! Well, the credit card he used swiped the name Superman, B into the system, so KAPOW non believers! Now, I haven't met Bruce Superman. I don't think I need to. I know everything I need to know about him. Or at least everything I decided that I am going to pretend I know about him. Even though I'm sure this is impossible, but I want to make sure I like Bruce Superman and couldn't bear to take the chance to have him look down on me if I ever disappointed him. Who knows what Bruce Superman would do if his bath towels didn't come up in time.

What I know about Bruce Superman:He's an AAA member, he'll drop $120 on room service, and another $150 in assorted restaurant charges. Obviously a man with developed palate and a heightened sense of bargain hunting. He hasn't rented a porno, but I doubt Bruce Superman has ever needed pornography. He also enjoys scented bath balls.

What I can assume about Bruce Superman:He is a bad ass. If he was born Bruce Superman, no kid would ever mess with him. He probably never had to fight anyone in his life, unless they were a bully from another school who made the mistake of jumping the wrong kid for milk money. Granted, there is a strong chance that he decided to become Bruce Superman. If this is the case, he either is a laid back dude with a good sense of humor or he was forced to become Bruce Superman after his parents were shot down in an alley and rocketed out to an exploding planet. So he may be a witty swashbuckling crime fighter or a dark brooding vigilante. Or he might be an above average accountant. Whatever he does, I am sure he does it well and with honor for the American way.

Of course, being Bruce Superman has to have some downsides too. He probably had a hard time with his ID while trying to get into bars when he turned 21. And I'm sure some of his coworkers (under either identity) may tease him behind his back. And of course he has to hear the same comments over and over and have people stare at him with a stupid smile on their face when they first hear his name. Morons. You have not the right to judge Bruce Superman, just be thankful that he is in your presence! And of course, Bruce Superman has to have some arch enemies. Like that goon in shipping named LexDrDoom. And his nosey landlord, Zod Magneto. Or his untrustworthy on again/off again ex girlfriend, Selina Mystique. Bruce Superman probably has a couple serious trust issues. He's been hurt before, emotionally and once thrown into a vat of acid sharks.

I am sorry that I had to broke my third rule, but it's quite obvious I did so out of respect to you, Bruce Superman. I hope your Mediterranean suite was as comfortable as your cave of solitude. Thank you for staying with us and we do truly hope you come back someday. Check out is at noon.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Stereotyping is bad, right? Well, yes, I suppose it is, but sometimes people make it so very easy to lump them into a category. I didn't make up the stereotype and I am not the one enforcing it. But I guess someone did and some people just wear it well.

Anyway, we had a wedding tonight that fitted into a stereotype that is probably safe politically correct wise to make fun of. Hill billies! Everywhere. I heard a "YEE HAW!" and a "Git er done!" yelled within 10 seconds of each other.

One guy came by the front desk and asked if I was a California surfer dude. I said no, born and raised in Chicago. Then he told me he doesn't like Chicago weather and how in Texas he likes to ride around on his motorcycle while wearing shorts. Uhm, ok. And he asked me what we do when NASCAR comes to town.

You did it. You said NASCAR. You have been judged. It is out of my hands.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Earlier today we had a female guest call down and complained that electricity blew out in her room. When the problem was investigated, we found that the blown fuse was due to all the photography equipment set up to do, ahem, a photo shoot. A quick internet search done by one of the managers found some of her other work. Alas, he did not share the web address. We get quite a few of these "models" along with some "dancers" and "film stars". Awesome!

At about midnight, three girls came down in very skimpy dominatrix outfits. Skimpy as in better have a couple band-aids under the corset so there are no arrests for indecency. It seems the night before they were wearing the same thing when they went out. Our engineer was in the elevator with them when he was ordered to bend over while one of them waved a menacing banana at him (I declined to ask what happened next. They were on the prowl for some hot Sunday late night Halloween parties. When I got a cab for them, they didn't believe that I didn't know where all the good strip clubs are. They said goodnight and that they'll be back at 7am. No banana was offered to me, so I didn't offer one either.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

"Guest's wife does not allow him to carry a credit card, so he will bring a photocopy of the card (issued in his name) along with acceptable ID. Have the guest fill out a cc authorization form at c/in and keep copies of the cc and a copy of the id"

Sunday, September 30, 2007

I haven't been posting for awhile because it's been rather dull here. Very disappointing. Busy, but dull. I figured I should at least post something in case my three readers stop coming by.

We had a happy drunken wedding this past evening. Since it is a non smoking hotel, it is usual for guests to hang outside of the front door to puff away and sneak out beverages. There were about a half dozen party goers outside when I noticed a homeless man interacting with them. We have quite a few regular homeless in this area of the loop, so it is not unusual. I was watching this from the inside and called the bellman who was outside calling cabs.

Soon after, there were group hugs with the homeless man and much merrymaking. Saved!

Later I walked out just in time to see a young lady vomit out the door of her cab. Her boyfriend and I exchanged looks and tried not to laugh. I like to pretend I never drink when I see things like this.

There was a memo by the other night auditor to look out for the models who were checking in because they might be confused. I thought this was funny. But it turned out to be true.

Drunk swedes have trouble understanding our wacky number system. 1202? 1205? Not the same thing?

I also had one lady come down to the desk at 4am with a new question. We have a lady come in during our wine hour who does writing analysis. The lady wanted to know if we know who this hotel mystic was and to make sure she isn't going to steal her handwriting and her identity. Fair enough, I guess. Maybe. Interesting what worries go through people's heads at 4 in the morning. I assured her we knew how this lady was and that she probably had nothing to worry about. Pretty sure she went back to bed unconvinced.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Usually people "accidentally" turn on the movie for about ten minutes before they suddenly realize it's the wrong movie. I had a guy today who told me he didn't mean to watch one of the movies, but the other one was ok.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The regular night auditor is on vacation so I am on day 3 of a 7 day midnight marathon. So far it has been pretty tame, but I'll throw in some tidbits.

#1

We had a rapper whom I never heard of stay here. He had an entourage, an Escalade parked up front, ate nothing but fast food, smoked a whole lot of weed in the room, and has beaten his murder rap, but still got convicted for the involuntary manslaughter. Come on man, try to have some originality here.

Also, the night bellman told me that some girl came to the desk late at night one day and asked about me. This is unusual. Even though I am amazingly attractive, I rarely get flirted with at work and never flirt back. You believe me, don't you, baby?

Night Bellman: Yeah. She didn't know your name but asked where was the cute guy wearing glasses and an ugly tie.Me: Well, I do wear glasses and it certainly is an ugly tie. That is odd, though. I have no idea who that could be. What did she look like?Night Bellman: A drunkard.Me:Ahhhhhhh.

Mystery solved.

#3

Me: Yes, they are filming an Angelina Jolie movie outside and, yes, I will send her up to your room immediately. You are very funny. Go to bed.

#4

So far my favorite guest has been the drunken Norwegian guy. He was awesome. He walked up to me and briefly mumbled something. I agreed with him and he gave me $20. This is how all of my guest interactions should be. If you stay at my hotel, you should definetely do this too.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

I'm bored. Nothing going on except for the usual comings and goings of the bar folk. Just glad the drunk Cubs fans and the drunk Cardinals fans aren't fighting. So, since today is dull, I'll tell a brief story from a couple weeks ago.

It was the Sunday of Lollalapooze weekend. I was hoping for a nice quiet night, but no luck. I had little hipsters coming in and out of the hotel all night so they could sit outside, drink wine, and smoke. Now, I have nothing against hipsters. Some of my best friends have friends that are hipsters. They were all pretty nice, so I was polite back. I even posed in a picture with one of them because I am such a wonderful person. Sure, they probably wanted me in the picture because of my god awful uniform, but whatever. So anyway, I was letting them in and out all night, but I had to stop two of them when they were trying to bring up a luggage cart up to their room at 5 in the morning.

Me: Sorry guys, but I cant let you take that cart up without a bellman.Little Hipster: Oh, hey man, don't worry about it. We are just going to cart our buddy out of the room.Me: Now I definitely cant let you take that cart up by yourselves. You want to what now?LH: Well, it would be kind of embarrassing if a bell dude came up with us. Aw, fuck it. It's his own damn fault. Our friend, well not really, I barely know the dude, drank a bottle of tequila in our room and cant really move anymore.Me: So you want to put his body on the cart and roll him into a different room?LH: Don't worry. He's not dead.Me: That's good to know. Let me talk to the bellman about this.

The bellman did go up to the room and he and the hipsters plopped drunky on to the cart and rolled him down to his room. I left a note for the morning staff that said something along the lines of "we had to, literally, wheel one drunk kid from one room to another. Someone should probably make sure he doesn't die."

Later a coworker told me that drunkenstein was staying here with his parents. Outta be proud of their skinny, funny haired little man.

Monday, August 13, 2007

This one didn't happen to me. My manager and I were swapping crazies stories and he shared this one that happened to him during the afternoon shift.

A middle aged woman comes through the door and struts up to the desk.

Middle Aged Woman: Hello. I need you to call the police. There is a conspiracy (dramatic pause) for a kidnapping!Manager: Uh oh. Well, you can use the pay phone to call 911 if you'd like.Middle Aged Woman: (walks over to the phone and stares at it for a few minutes before coming back to the desk) I can't use that payphone, I need to use yours. (leans closer and whispers) That one is bugged!Manager: Well, unfortunately all our hotel's phones are bugged. But I know for a fact that the phones at the convenience store across the street are completely bug free.Middle Aged Woman: Oh! Thank you very much.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

At around 6am with an hour left of my shift, I began to think I really didn't get as much information as I should have from my earlier conversation with the phone psychic. Fortunately, fate was on my side. You should probably read the post two down from this one to get the first call. Not that it would make anymore sense.

Me:Good morning and thank you for calling "hotel". How may I help you today?Woman: I believe I talked to you earlier. I am the one who was trying to figure out what I am supposed to do.Me: Oh yes, we certainly did talk about that.Woman: Well, I just figured out that I am the one who has to stay at your hotel in order to find this man. Is today the 12th or the 13th?Me: It is Sunday morning of the 12th.Woman:Ok, here's what we have to do. I need to stay there on 8/13 and I have to be in suite 813. Some people say that the number 13 is unlucky, but it all makes sense now. You must make this happen.Me: Well, I would like to make this happen, but it looks like we are sold out on that day and there is no room 813 anyway.Woman: That can't be right. (pause) I guess I will just have to get this man to come to my home.Me: I'm sorry, I don't think I ever got your name.Woman: My name is Mary Lynn. I have recently found out that Mary means mother, like Mother Theresa and Lynn means compassion. It makes sense to me now. This is why I need to find this man.Me: Well, I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, Mary.Woman: Do you know that I haven't felt the touch of a man in 5 years? Not a touch, a kiss. I have not made love to a man in 5 years.Me: ...Woman: What I need to do is invite this man into my house and we will find what we have both been needing in our lives. We will save each other.Me: I just wish I could be more help with all of this.Woman: No no. You have been so kind and helpful. I love you. Thank you so much for talking to me and helping me find out what I need to do.Me: It has been my pleasure. I hope everything works out with you two.Woman: Thank you, me too. I love you. Goodbye now.

I swear, I could not make this up. I might as well quit this blog now. There is no way I can top this.

A haggard looking woman buzzes the front door. I signal for her to use her room key to unlock the door, but she keeps buzzing. I reluctantly let her in.

Haggard Woman: I need something, but first give me a piece of paper.Me: (hands her a piece of scrap paper) There you go. Do you have a room key?HW: This paper isn't big enough.Me: I'm sorry ma'am. Do you have a key or are you checking in?HW: (ignores me and sits in the lobby and starts to write)Me: I'm sorry ma'am, I can't have anyone hang out in the lobby unless they are guests of the hotel.HW: Fine. Give me a room.Me: Well, unfortunately we are sold out tonight (true). Unless you have a reservation, I am going to have to ask you to leave.HW: (gets up and starts to walk to the elevator)Me: Again, I am sorry ma'am, but I cant let you go up without a room.HW: I am visiting someone.Me: Ok, great! Let me just look up their name and I will let them know you are coming.HW: I don't have to tell you that! It's personal!Me: Well, unfortunately without the guest's name, I can not let you go up.HW: (death stare) What is your name?Me: My name is "my name".HW: I am going to call the police on you.Me: Ok. I am sorry, but you still have to leave.HW: (starts walking toward the front door, but before she leaves she gives me the death stare) You will be destroyed.Me: Thank you. Have a good night.

Me: Good evening and thank you for calling "hotel", how may I help you?Woman (young sounding and soft spoken): Hello. I need you to help me find a guest in your hotel.Me: No problem. What is the last name?Woman:Hurd. If not Hurd, than Beard. Or maybe Rogers.Me:Ok. I am sorry, I am not finding any of those names. Are you sure they are staying at this hotel?Woman: Oh yes. He is definitely there. Ok, let me think. My birthday is on the 20th and it is 12 of August. ...August.... How about room 338?Me:Uhm, no, sorry. We do not have a room with that number. I'm sorry, can you hold for a second? I have another call.Woman: Of course. I love you. You have been so nice to me.Me:Ok, I'm back. Well, I looked up those names and every name that starts with the same letters and nothing is turning up. So, you are sure this person is staying at this hotel?Woman: Oh yes, they are staying in a suite. (talks quietly to herself naming more numbers and dates) Ok, can you check suite number 2303?Me: Again, I am sorry. Our floors don't go so high.Woman:Hmm. How do the floors there work? I love you. You are so helpful.Me: (Describes the layout of the floors and the suite locations. Three times. I think she is drawing a map.)Woman: Tell you what, let me go over this again. What's your name and phone number?Me: Uh, well my name is "me" and you can reach me at "312-hotel-number".Woman: (Names more number combinations under her breath.) You are so nice to me. I have to find out where this person is staying so I can save him.Me: Excuse me? Save him?Woman: Yes. He is about to do something self destructive, even though he does not know it, and I have to save him. I know it sounds weird.Me: I don't know what to tell you....Woman: You are so kind. I love you. I better just come over there and start knocking on the doors of the suites.Me:Uhmm, I am sorry. That's probably not such a good idea. I can't really have anyone come and knock on random peoples doors.Woman: Oh, I see. Ok, I will make some other phone calls then. Thanks for all your help!(click)Me: (Lock the doors)

About Me

The Auditor is a life long resident of Chicago. In Illinoisese this means he grew up in the suburbs and moved here when he was in his early twenties. He is approximately 1.8 inches taller than the average American male and can hold his breath for 7.3 minutes (citation needed). He has to wear an ugly tie to work.